An Unknown Magic
by inappropriately-ginger
Summary: With Lily Evans appointed the head girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she is forced into spending many hours in the company of James Potter; a Pure Blooded trouble maker with the brains of a genius. After a summer of getting to know him more and more, Lily must reject her feelings and concentrate on the war ahead.
1. Chapter 1

**An Unknown Magic**

**Chapter One **

The purest of blood creates the purest of children – it is the impurity inside which creates the scum of the world.

The Malfoy manner was in a state of extreme sadness. Though both sides of the families were some of the purest left in the cross-breeding generation, it appeared that despite this purity they could not sustain life. The wife had discovered that the child she had been carrying for almost four months had perished within her, and the husband had not taken this news well. This state of sadness was nothing new to the Malfoy's, having suffered many occurrences of the same nature before, but every person visiting the household felt the fresh wave of sickness that came with the wife's shame. The rooms were all deathly silent, where the sounds of laughter and mirth should be.

Shortly after the bad news had come via a visiting healer from St Mungo's, Narcissa Malfoy was expecting a guest, in the form of her favourite sister. Lucius; her devoted and shattered husband, had left for work two hours previously, leaving her alone once more in the dark walls of his family's house. By twelve o'clock, midday there was a chiming of the bell, and the sound of an opening door. Sat inside the morning room, surrounded by shelves of dusty books and two open windows, Narcissa sighed in relief that she was no longer left to her own thoughts.

Following the sounds of a female's footsteps there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," called the blonde, catching sight of her sallow face in a looking glass opposite her. The door opened, allowing entrance to an elongated girl, with a mass of black curls surrounded a beautiful and pale face. Bellatrix Black wore a set of simple purple robes and a pair of knee high leather boots.

"Sissy!" cried the younger girl upon spotting her sister. She bounded forwards, her arms held out in order to embrace the woman. There were tears speckling the wife's face, which went unnoticed until the fell onto the shoulder of the younger sister.

"Bella," greeted Narcissa, happy to see that her sister was looking well. "How have you been?"

"Narcissa, I did not come here to talk about myself, although I might have some news to tell you later on. How has Lucius been?" asked the girl, who was barely out of Hogwarts but still had the eyes of someone much older.

"He's distraught," Narcissa admitted finally, having pretended since the incident that her husband's spirits were fine, and that his constant leaving her in the empty house was about the stress of work. "I think he hates me,"

"No Sissy," denied Bellatrix, soothing her sister's straight blonde hair. If it wasn't for the strong dark eyes that the pair shared, there would be no telling that they were sisters. "He's just as upset about this as you are,"

"He thinks me barren! I am barren. He wants a son," the woman dropped her head to hide the tears. Standing, Bellatrix crossed the room with the sound of heels on hard wood floors.

"I don't believe that he hates you for this. There is still hope, sister," Now Narcissa looked up, her eyes meeting her sister.

"What hope is there when I have failed him so many times already?" shrieked the older girl. Bellatrix was now looking into the looking glass, studying her own dark features, and pondering about the thing that was really on her mind. "How could he not want me?" she mused.

"Cissy," she said out loud. "A son shall come with time,"

"You can't know that," snapped the woman.

"And you can't know the contrary," Bellatrix replied quickly, her eyes turning away from her own face and towards her sister. It was not often that it was Bellatrix who would be comforting Narcissa. The eldest sister – Andromeda – normally held the position for mothering the two girls, and it was only since her traitorous behaviour in marrying a muggle that had removed her from the lives of her sisters. _Toujour Pur._

Narcissa sighed, slowly relieving herself of all the anger she didn't wish to take out onto her sister, and composed her face.

"What is your news?" she questioned, knowing that the mind of her sister was not wholly dedicated to her sadnesses.

"The Lord wishes me married to Rodolphus," the girl informed her sister, falling down onto the sofa beside her. "Mother agrees, as does father,"

"What does Roddie think?"

"I spoke to him yesterday. He agrees that it is a sure match," sighed the youngest witch, with obvious distaste in her tone.

"They _are_ right, Bella," Narcissa agreed. "But you don't think so?" in truth the woman needn't ask the question to her sister.

"It's not him I want,"

"They say that marriages of prudence are more successful than those of love,"

"You think I don't know that Sissy? Look at you and Lucius," she snapped angrily. Narcissa's face fell from its open book to a dusty mask. "Oh Sissy, I didn't mean it,"

"It's true – had my husband married for prudence he would have a son and wife. He married for love, and barely has one of those things," the tears drowned her eyes, but were unnoticed by the sister, who looked away now.

"He doesn't want me,"

"Rodolphus?"

"The Lord," corrected the girl. Their Lord had always had a special place inside of the youngest Black's mind, ever since he had visited her father, wand sheathed and skin inked.

"Our Dark Master has no need for women, only warriors. His cause is greater than himself," Narcissa reminded; something she had been doing for many years now. It was a rehearsed phrase.

"I don't care if he has need of me or not! He doesn't want me," yelled the girl, with her kindling fire. It was true that Bellatrix was possibly the most beautiful of the three Black girls, taking after their mother in that aspect. It was also true that every boy and man she knew looked at her with special eyes. The third truth, and the most painful of all the truths relating to the youngest Black sister, was that Lord Voldemort, the King of men, looked at her with no special interest or desire. To him she was merely a pawn, and never the queen.

"If the dark Lord wishes your hand to Roddie, then you must marry him," Bellatrix shot her sister a dirty look.

"This is unjust," she cried. "My sister gets the man she loves and he is a muggle, but I do not get the man that I love when he is a true wizard?"

"She will not see the end of the revolution," Narcissa said. "But if you marry Rodolphus then you can do your bit,"

"What if I don't want to do my bit? What if I refuse?" demanded the girl with the childlike demeanour that she had started to hide well.

"You will do your bit, because your Lord wants you to… because _he_ wants you to," pointed out the older sister. Narcissa smiled, letting her beauty treble as she realised with relief that her sister was right. She _would_ marry Rodolphus, and be his wife, but more than that she would swear herself to the Lord's bidding, and she would be his most faithful warrior. With this her clarity of mind returned to her, and though the sadness of the Malfoy manner still held many tears of unfulfilled wishes, there was a new journey to follow.


	2. Chapter 2

**An Unknown Magic**

**Chapter Two**

Lucius Malfoy was thought by all to be a rather fantastic man. With the fortune of his late father and an aristocratic view of the world, his many thoughts and ideals on how the wizarding community should be run were often the talking points of parties. Though lacking a formal employment, Lucius spent many of his hours around the Ministry of Magic, hopeful that these ideas should rub off (forcefully or otherwise) onto those in charge. He was truthful to those around him, and was quite contented in being on the right side of society. To Lucius, the right side was the winning side.

Given the recent troubles he had been having with his wife, Lucius found it prudent to be out of the manner house, and therefore into society. That morning he had been discussing politics with the young but ambitious Cornelius Fudge whom he had bumped into during his normal walk around the ministry. The younger man had expressed his views on the recent tensions between groups naming themselves "death eaters" and those who rejected their pure blooded views. Fudge then scurried off, apparently late for a meeting with the minister.

On his way out of the auditorium, Lucius was surprised to bump into Augusta Longbottom. She was a fifty something witch with thick greying hair and a stern expression. In his childhood, Augusta had often given him sweets when meeting with his mother. Now the woman merely looked emptily at him.

"Lucius," she greeted gruffly, leaning forwards onto the umbrella which was almost as tall as her. "I heard about your wife, dreadful business," Lucius wished that she had said anything other than what she had, as he had no reply prepared for such personal sadnesses.

"Narcissa is fine, I assure you," was all he could think to reply, his hands knotting behind his back.

"I only wonder how she is because it has been such a long time since anyone has seen her," the old lady said matter-of-factly. Malfoy grimaced and nodded.

"Indeed, she is expecting a call from her sister this afternoon, though I'm sure she could make time for you, Augusta," he informed the woman dully. She shook her head at this piece of information.

"It is Frank's birthday on Friday," explained the old woman. Frank Longbottom was the only son of Augusta; and was quite well adapted despite this. The last time Lucius had seen the boy he had been a first year in Hogwarts, and Lucius in his last. Having left Hogwarts now and entered the auror programme, Lucius wondered if the Longbottom boy would be either a powerful friend or a dangerous enemy, but had not yet reached an appropriate decision, and as such had not breached the mother.

"Another day then?" suggested the husband for his wife. The older woman's tightly pursed lips turned into a wonderfully awful grimace.

"Of course you could always come to the party," she added kindly. Lucius went to graciously disagree to the suggestion, until his mind was drawn back to his wife. How she sat in the dark rooms of his childhood home with her eyes staring at something not quite palpable. Lucius nodded.

"You're most kind, Augusta," he complemented, causing her to lower her head in thanks so he was able to see the top of her hideous aubergine hat. With a quick exchanging of details and a hurried goodbye, Lucius pondered as to whether his wife would be in better spirits upon attending the get together.

The afternoon passed as time often does when one dreads some awful meeting they must attend. For many hours only a minute seemed to pass, and then it did so all at once. He'd sat drinking hot beverages with the minister one moment and found himself walking from Graham Chadwick's office down in the Goblin Liaisons office the next. Before he knew it there was a rush of people leaving the day shifts, and he was dragged from the building in their swarm. He apparated directly into his study in the Malfoy Manor, and spent ten minutes composing himself to address his wife.

Eventually Lucius found her in the disused drawing room, with her hands moving silently across the keys of the piano. It appeared that after her discussions with her younger sister, Narcissa was put into a mood only describable as less unhappy and more unsettled. Feeling that this was the only reaction possible from an encounter with Bellatrix Black, Lucius Malfoy thought nothing of it, and put his elegant claws on the shoulder of his wife.

"Darling, Augusta Longbottom has invited us to a party," Lucius muttered sombrely. Narcissa's gaze did not turn to him, and nothing in her body shifted, but there was something about her constant stillness that bugged her husband.

"What is the occasion?" she questioned in a voice completely neutral. It even lacked the inflection of its questioning.

"Her son; Frank, it is his birthday," answered Lucius, staying as motionless as she.

"Must we go?"

"It would be prudent,"

"Prudent?" he dropped his hand from her and turned away.

"Did your sister have anything interesting to say?" all of his attentions were focused onto the wood of the mantelpiece. Narcissa was not deterred so easily.

"Prudent how?" she repeated.

"I imagine not, as you would have surely told me on my arrival,"

"Lucius!" she warned in the tone that is specifically made for wives and mothers.

"You should see her. People are questioning your health,"

"Let them," she hissed.

"You haven't got anything on your mind, have you?"

"No," she replied too quickly, that the husband was forced to see how she shuffled on her seat.

"We're going,"

"Why?" Both husband and wife were staring at each other, begging the other for their unanswered curiosities. Lucius finally sighed in the knowledge that wife had entirely more patience than himself.

"You can't lock yourself up like this, Narcissa. You are a Malfoy, and you are my wife, and you need to show people that _this does not affect you_,"

"I lost a child, Lucius; another child. If that _doesn't_ affect you then I do not wish to be your wife," her voice tore him.

"Narcissa," he sighed heavily, his long hands twisting within one another. "This is not a permanent infliction. The healers…"

"Have thus far been useless," his wife hissed once more, her own hands red from gripping the chair beneath her. "What is the point in pure blood if we can't even create a child?"

"He will come," Lucius assured in a whisper, placing a pair of pale lips to his wives even whiter hair. "And when he does you shall not be able to go to parties, due to exhaustion, so it is prudent that you let your hair down,"

"Then I will accompany you," the wife said back, hushing the thoughts inside of her head which worried for her sister.


End file.
